these days all I have are ideas
but what is an idea without execution
it is hope that is lost, and the biggest lie you can tell youself
I cannot remember how many times I've thought of the line to a new poem
How many times I reworked it in my mind until it was just right
& then just let it go
We are constantly putting things on the back burner, saving them for later
But who knows when later wont come and all you'll be left with is a bunch of empty ideas
that were dying to be shared, dying to be written down, dying from the moment you thought of them

As I sit here with thoughts of you cascading over my mind. I can't help but smile at the inevitability of it all. You came back to me once; I can't help but hope that you'll come back to me again.

brautigan induced

There's a couple on East and 24th having what they hope to be their last first kiss. And I'm on my way to Brooklyn watching the street signs blur by.

Part III

Slowly I allow you to undress me, our bodies gliding in a synchronistic cadence that only years of practice can attest to. No amount of time or lapse of in between can compare to the feeling of you on top of me. Climax leads to confusion as I drift into the abyss of me and you. This is all a façade.  So I will put old feelings aside and go on living this life of mine. For even though I am daily haunted with memories that fall over me like a blanket of gossamers in a desolate field and am constantly set forth in a whirl wind of desire by allowing them to osculate through my heart just one more time; it only brings me back to the state of conjuncture that you left me in, where it all fell apart. Like shards of zircon, stunning and seemingly real to the untrained eye, you envelope my entire being; consuming me for all that I am worth. It will take many a sleepless night to get you out of my mind.

Fighting the Fuedal System, Or Just Going With the Motions?

I have always had a job, from the ripe young age of 15; and although my job experiences have thankfully gotten better with age, I can't help but think that the Feudal System never really died. Day in and day out I get up and go to work, and for what gain? To still find myself struggling to make ends meet at the end of every month and seemingly watch my youth forever slip through my fingertips. Me and the rest of America right? I understand I'm definitely not the only one, and that there are so many people that are far worse off than myself; but sometimes I can't help but question our society and why it works the way it does. ~~::;;"" yea yea yea I know I sound like a broken record but hear me out, if you do so choose.
I'm a 21 year old, Junior in college, putting myself through school, working two jobs, and trying to keep a hold on all the things I do so hope to accomplish in my time on this fickle place we all call home. LOANS. Lets not talk about loans. They're there, and they are super helpful, I can honestly say that without student loans I wouldn't be able to pass school. For me although I could probably scrape by with my own wages, they are a form of security for me, they allow me to pay that doctor bill I've had for the past 3 years on time, that I can have WiFi in my home so that after working 13 hours I can go home to study and not to an internet café or the library. Frankly they allow me to live comfortably, as I'm sure is the case with many people that I know are going through similar scenarios as myself. But don't for a second think that the voice in the back of my head isn't screaming; these need to be paid back and PRONTO!

On to living. I live in a pretty decent sized apartment complex. $1250 a month for a two bedroom, one bathroom, no utilities included, in the Village. Not bad. Previous apartments. $1200, 6 bedroom, heat and hot water included. The one before that, $1225, 4 bedroom, water included. Granted I'm in a more renovated apartment, in an awesome location, but HOLY SHIT. Granted this is my choice, I couldn't live in a dorm room, I like feeling safe in my home, I like being able to have my own space. I understand livin aint easy, but in the present months after much mulling over my living expences, I came across a handful of podcasts and found that there are slews of middle aged adults who are in the very same situation that I am in! I'm 21, they're grown adults, over college, half way through their careers, packing up and moving because they can't afford to live in their homes. Once again I come back to the fact that I really am blessed to be able to take care of myself the way that I do, but there's that voice in my head again saying, aren't I going to school so that I don't have to worry about living at some point? Hmmph, I'm starting to think the change does not come....

We are a society that builds and builds debt insurmountably, and in the process of doing so we turn a blind eye and tell ourselves that things will change in a few years and that it will all just wash away.  In the process of scrubbing away at our debt we are only spreading it. So what do we do? Go with the motions? Today I was mowing my employer's lawn, and couldn't help but wonder how many other young adults my age were doing that at 1030 in the morning on a Thursday? Last year I wouldn't have been. I more than likely would've been hungover, in bed, begging someone to bring me a cup of coffee. Granted if I wasn't in that state I would've been sleeping, after working until 4 in the morning the night before. Pick your poison I guess. With age comes more responsibility, with the want for more comes the need for cash, and with that comes more responsibility.

The thing that really gets me is that I didn't want to go to school. I just understand that you have to. I want to write, I want to travel and take pictures, and sit in circles with strangers and laugh and cry. I want to teach English in another country and give a child a hot meal that maybe has never had one before. I want to soak up every great little spectacle that this Earth has to offer. But our society makes it awful hard for a 21 year old girl, that understands the importance of a home and a career to do so.  I am not giving up though. Speech pathology is my major, I intend to finish out school, I intend to pay back my loans ASAP, I intend to give myself a few more years of wisdom, and then I intend to live out MY dream and get everything out this life that I want. It won't be easy, but hey it aint easy now and I'm sure as hell not going to look back thirty years down the road and say, I did all that for what?


END RANT.... I hope if anyone comes across this and takes the time to read my scattered thoughts, that if anything they take a moment to think about what they really truly want. Erase all the bad, know that things can always be worse, and that if you set you mind to it than you can truly make your world everything you ever wanted it to be. Don't settle, Stay True<3

untitled

Some days I am overcome with visions of my past. Like layers of paint on an old house I have gone over and over the cracks in my life to protect and hide my weakness's. Don't we all? Soon we all tire of touching up our imperfections, and as the paints starts to crack rather than go over it one more time, we let it fade and peel away. Silently and slowly we start exposing all that is wrong with us. How beautiful it is to stumble upon these imperfect objects, to have the light shine on them for what they really are, ugly shelters, holding so much more than anyone could have ever imagined.

Just a thought

A white wine, brandy based, sangria. Fresh mozzarella, pesto, and tomato. June, mid afternoon in New Paltz. Listening to women banter about the shameful men in their lives and a group of friends discussing the pros and cons of robotics. There's a seventeen year old boy dying for my company. To walk along the rail trail and probably make an unpracticed move. I yearn to find Dylan's old stomping grounds and not have to worry about work tomorrow, school in the fall, or the bills that have too suddenly become a major part of my thoughts. Today I am just enjoying the sun, and the breeze, this cute dress I put on, and the empty house that awaits me when I finally return home.

Women talking to strangers about therapists, shady men, and the lonely single life. Wasting all their money on pricey booze for cheap conversation. That women you just sloppily gave your number too, who you chose to confide in like she has been your friend for years, she is never going to call you. She doesn't care, she as well was merely looking for a temporary break from her own sad shortcomings in life, that aided with help from the drink only seem that much larger. When you leave she will make eyes at you with the bartender and for a moment feel like maybe she isn't as lost as you. Don't worry, she is.

A young girl, still daunting unshaved legs, that only show her innocence and naivety waits for her family to stop reminiscing and aimlessly walks around the wine shop. I used to be that girl, I used to be that bored. Funny thing is it doesn't get much better when you get older. Sometimes it's even worse because now people actually expect you to listen to them, god forbid even contribute to their meaningless conversations that they really have no grounds to even be talking about in the first place. Regardless, they're drunk on words and she's sober. She just wants to go home and play with her dog, to check her Facebook likes, and make plans to defy her parents in the near future.

Three generations of women sit in a room and I am in the middle. I have been where that young girl has been and I am petrified of being where that woman is now. Here I sit looking over them both, reflecting on my own doings and I realize that they very well could be doing the same to me.

As the river ebbs and flows here I ponder what brought me here. Everything is so easy. Crossing and intertwining with one another;  you'd never know if something weren't mean to be. Life moves so fast and thoughts soon become decisions, and then plans, and soon you're looking at nothing but an empty sky and wondering about whether or not you made the right decision. I'd like to think I have, yeah I'd like to think I have.

Father's Day

This day along with Mother's Day is always a reflective kind of day for me. Though I am beyond thankful that I was able to call my dad today and wish him a Happy Father's Day (I also called my mom and wished her a happy day as well) I can't help but form a list of all the good times and bad that I have shared with both of my parents. Though I won't bore anyone that may stumble upon this with the list; for me these days have become more of recognizing parents in the simplest form possible, human...and thanking them for taking on the responsibility of caring for (to the best of their capabilities) the life of another.  Life doesn't just stop when you become a parent. All of the trivialities and responsibilities that you had prior are still there if not heightened by bringing another life into the world. There were times I wondered why the hell my parents thought they should have children but there were also times that I know brought all of us so much joy and love. As I've grown I've started to think of my parents less as people that are "responsible for me" and more as two people that gave me life. We are all learning and constantly growing together, through all of the good and the bad. I know that they are beyond proud of me simply by the tone in their voices when they tell me they love me. They have never believed that I would fail even when I though they did. And though I've seen them at their worse; and they at mine, I know that even when I thought they were against me they simply saw a mirror image of their lives flashing before them and didn't want the same outcome. Though when I share with them my stories of nights I believe I will always remember I know they laugh at the remembrance of their own younger years and are thankful to have given me my free spirit and good nature. One thing my parents have constantly told me both separately and together that their greatest gift between one another was creating both my brother and I. Though my parents are seldom together anymore I can see the look in their eyes when they speak of one another that there was so much love between them. For that I thank them and will forever hold that in my heart, both for the good and the bad. With that being said I urge everyone to do the same not only on Father's Day or Mother's Day but everyday. Because no matter where you stand with your parents today, there was once a time and more than likely will be again that they will look back and think of you as their greatest creation. Thank them for it, because no matter how you want to put it, without them there would not be a you.

6/13

Turning in cadence like the arms on a clock tower. I never would've guessed that time would just stop. Hours and minutes overlap and soon all time is lost. Where is the clock smith to fix these broken arms? To rewind and restart the time that once seemed so infinite.

Sailor Jerry

He grabbed my hand and told me without saying anything that he'd never met someone so together yet so broken. So strange to love a stranger, yet he showed me all he understood by how many times he kissed me. It was enough to remind a lost girl that she really is enough. He left when the sun came up and I said it was nice to meet you. He said; "The pleasure was all mine darlin". Cheap whiskey and the company of a stranger. That's all I needed to momentarily forget about you.

Pick One

 Desiring to be eloquent and colorful, my juxtaposing figures both caressing and enveloping me giving off the that almost mysterious yet totally readable quality. Visibly smudged in some areas, like the shadows that permanently reside below my eyes yet are so well defined at the edges its like a mirror into my soul. Ending with the fact that I am completely erasable. Like the words that run across these pages, unlike the blue in my eyes and the blood in my veins I can all too easily erase what once was and start anew.

Saturday Morning Epiphanies

I woke up with the overwhelming feeling that we are predisposed to where we really belong. Life has a knack for bringing us back to where we belong, even if we stray away, forget, or try to avoid what we know is meant for us. I remember being a young girl and having an obsession with writing. I'd walk around and tell everyone that I was going to be a writer when I grew up. It wasn't until my sister told me that it wasn't possible that I stopped writing all together. It took almost 15 years for me to rediscover writing while I was living in Long Island and when I did all of those feelings that originally had hit me came back again. Its the same thing with school, I always wanted to go to college. A series of events lead me to not be able to go right out of high school but now here I am completing my Associates in May and carrying on my degree. Its even in the little things. How on Saturdays no matter what I am going to hit my snooze button a million times until its 10 in the morning and I absolutely have to wake up in order to get ready for work. This all may seem like useless banter but I must say for the first time in almost 6 months now I feel at ease. When things start falling into place people naturally wonder what's going to go wrong. Life is hard and when people are used to being told that they can't or that it'd be too hard that is naturally what occurs. The truth is that I don't think life needs to be hard. Our lives have been engrained in us like our DNA. We have choices, which will lead us to our experiences, but we will always make it back to where we really belong. That is life in all its beauty. So on this Saturday while you're waking up take a moment to really think about what you've always wanted out of life. Whether you find yourself surrounded by everything you've ever wanted or you're completely off course; know that you will get there and you will be happy.

Tangle me in your web of silence.
So intricate and serene.
I travel for miles through the ocean of your eyes.

Lunch with a Ghost

He sits in the booth intended for four, head raised but eyes only on the mediocre food on his plate. A man touched with half a life time's age and a spark that can still be found in his ever graying eyes. There he sits alone everyday as if waiting for someone to sit down and join him, though he is the only one that knows no on will ever come.

Years of sharing meals with her have given him a lasting impression of what it means to enjoy the company of another. And though those times have long passed, in his mind he will never eat alone again. Lunch with a ghost doesn't produce much conversation but it beats being alone in your silence.

The Recurring Dream of You

Pt 1

An unfamiliar place. You leave me alone. Faced with two problems that are one in the same, I give up. Engulfed in anger, fright, and pain. Even writing it I can feel it all wash over me again. I wake up next to you. There's a knot in my stomach, I swear you know what I'm thinking. I'm hit with the realization that things can't be this way. We don't talk.

Pt 2

Your home. Faced with the same two problems, though now we are both there, both facing them. I felt good. We go to bed. Hell breaks loose, my problem coming to light. I convey that I should go home and you agree. I don't go. We hold each other and I nestle into you. Even now I am consumed with a sense of calm. I wake up thinking the only thing that would have made this morning better would be if I'd woken up next to you.

Where do we go from here?

Tom Cat lying in the stained glass window catching the last rays of today's sun.
Lazy motherfucker.
Can I have one of your lives?

Marb Reds and Sushi
Coffee and a Banana.
Today's entrée of choice.
And all that's really starving is my soul

Your a Massochist for Falling for Me

I remember that it was painful. The kind of dull sadistic pain that leaves an imprint on wherever it falls. It hurt to see that smile. Not because it wasn't beautiful because believe me you've never seen a smile like his before. It hurt because I was faced with the fact that I was no longer the reason why that smile was there. Moments are fleeting, days blend into one another and then you blink and one day you realize all that you thought you had isn't there anymore. And that's ok. I think that sometimes we are given experiences soely for the purpose of keeping hope alive. When you find something that just works and your astounded that anything could ever be so simple yet so complex. I run from comfort. When things become natural I I can’t help but think its the end. All those nights spent dancing through your well lived in rooms; rooms I had no right to be in but you welcomed me anyway. I got comfortable. That night walking into your house, taking my shoes off by the foyer, putting my coat down on the same chair, walking back to your kitchen to pour a glass of wine…I felt suffocated. I played the rest of the night out in my head before it even happened and that scared me. Looking back I see I felt the same pain that I feel now. I’d give anything to be comfortable again…

Tracing my lips through the case of your soul
Carefully unlocking  every door you've closed
I want to sit with you in silence and learn everything about you that can't be said through common words
To simply be with you, living separate and whole, is everything that I hope for and dread all at the same time.

S&V

Subjectivity is a love affair waiting to happen
Vulnerability is its temptress
When they meet their clothes fall to the floor instantly
They both stand there waiting anxiously for whats to come
Is love really in the eye of the beholder or is it in the ones that are lonely enough at the time to just fall...

How would you like your eggs?

I see my life bleeding out like an over easy egg.
 Escaping from all corners with no chance of being saved.
Sometimes I just want to scream,
"Look at me, watch, I'm bleeding out for all of you to see, falling to pieces at the seams."
Soon I'll be dry as a bone
All of my secrets in a yoked up pool
Surrounded by everyone and waiting to be dipped into.
That's why I prefer most days to carry myself as a poached egg
All of my contents held up inside, sticking to the white walls that make me whole.

Those things we hold onto that just feel like home.

Recently I made a post asking people what their happiness was. Though I was hoping for a bit more content in the responses I can't say that any of the replies I received were insignificant. There was the common "my friends" reply which is most definitely true and holds a great deal of importance in ones happiness. There was my cats, music, and a few "That's a good question" replies as well. Personally I believe it is a fantastic question and one that you should ask yourself daily. Too often do we get swept up in the day to day hum drum that we have deemed ever so important in making our lives go round. So what is your happiness? What makes you feel alive and puts a subtle but true smile on your face for no apparent reason. For me its those things that we hold onto that just feel like home.


The smell of clean cotton, clear blue skies, a warm scarf around your neck, and hot plates at the dinner table. Long conversations that mean something without trying, mutual understandings that go unsaid, arguments that will go nowhere. Fresh flowers, coffee (hot or cold), a good book, and the act of doing nothing. The calmness of a persons face before they start their day, the first time it snows and the first day that all the snow melts away. All of the highs and almost all of the lows. The things that make you remember that we are all but a spec in the entire universe. Comprehending that there were many before you and that there will be many after you; and that all of "this" is really so trivial, but so damn important at the same time. Birds chirping, the adrenaline rush you get when you know your running late, making a stranger laugh, or better yet having a stranger make you laugh. Waking up next to someone and getting closer to them before falling back out of consciousness. Feeling all the energy in a room and knowing that you played a part in getting it there.....that's my happiness